


The conspiring of elevators and carts

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, College Student Sam, M/M, Professor Castiel, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-05 01:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3099260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yeah, Sam was definitely blushing. He was stuck in an elevator with a professor that he’d had sexual fantasies about and the guy was complimenting his school work. Suddenly he wondered how messy his hair was, and he was very aware of how old and dirty his shoes were. Mr. Novak was always neat pressed and immaculate, even when Sam had seen him around campus at coffee shops or late on Friday in the library. His white shirt sleeves were stiff, his argyle sweater vest un-wrinkled, his black slacks creased down the middle. Even though Sam was almost a half a foot taller than Mr. Novak, he felt smaller. The man had a presence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The conspiring of elevators and carts

Sam wheeled his empty cart around the shelves and headed for the elevator. It was a Friday night and he was closing up the campus library. His only plans when he got home were to eat whatever didn’t need preparation beyond opening a can and then pass out. Between taking a full course load of classes and working as many hours at the library that the university would give him, Sam didn’t have a social life. He might mourn that fact if he wasn’t so exhausted. 

As he trundled across the open study area towards the elevator, the screeching squeak of a loose wheel on the cart making his headache pound, Sam noticed someone holding the elevator door open for him with a foot. Pushing his cart inside, Sam didn’t recognize the person at first because they had a massive stack of books and files precariously balanced in their arms. 

Once the elevator doors closed, Sam pressed the button for the ground floor. 

“Thanks for holding the doors.”

“It’s no problem.”

Oh, he recognized that voice. A deep rough scratch that he listened to for an hour every Monday, Wednesday and Friday in his Intro to Philosophy course. One Professor Castiel Novak, and Sam was blushing because he had maybe - ok, a lot lately - fantasized about that voice during the rare indulgent “intimate shower time” that he snatched for himself in a crowded dorm. As Professor Novak turned and leaned against the back of the elevator doors, Sam flashed what he hoped was a totally not creepy smile. 

“Hey, you can set your books down on my cart.”

“Thank you, but I’m not sure if I could manage to balance all of these again if I were to set them down.”

The old elevator lurched with an ominous groan and juddered to a stop. Sam tried to hold on to his cart but it swung sideways and bumped Castiel, who stumbled, sending his pile of books toppling forward. Sam was frozen mortified as he watched the mess unfold in slow motion. Castiel’s shoulders slumped, he sighed and pushed his thin black framed glasses up on his nose before kneeling to start picking up books. 

Sam squeezed out from behind his cart and crouched to help his professor pick up everything. They both started a neat pile on the cart. 

“I’m so sorry.”

Castiel waved a hand at him, flattening wrinkled papers that had come out of a folder. 

“It’s not your fault. If they put more funding towards maintaining buildings here instead of sports, this elevator might not be so testy.”

“Yeah, I hear that, I’ve gotten stuck in this thing two times already.”

They finished gathering up the books and folders, stacking them neatly, and Sam turned around to press the call button for help. 

“It’s Winchester right? Sam Winchester, from Intro to Philosophy?”

Sam pushed his hands into the pouch of his baggy red hoody so he wouldn’t fidget too much. 

“Uh, yeah. I’m surprised you recognize me, man, that class is friggin huge.”

Castiel nodded, leaning back against the elevator wall again and crossing one ankle over the other. 

“I have a good memory. And you’ve made a good impression, I enjoyed reading your essay on Heraclitus. Most students choose to write about Plato or Aristotle for the Ancient Greek portion.”

Yeah, Sam was definitely blushing. He was stuck in an elevator with a professor that he’d had sexual fantasies about and the guy was complimenting his school work. Suddenly he wondered how messy his hair was, and he was very aware of how old and dirty his shoes were. Mr. Novak was always neat pressed and immaculate, even when Sam had seen him around campus at coffee shops or late on Friday in the library. His white shirt sleeves were stiff, his argyle sweater vest un-wrinkled, his black slacks creased down the middle. 

Even though Sam was almost a half a foot taller than Mr. Novak, he felt smaller. The man had a presence. 

“Oh, uh, thanks, I just really found skepticism interesting.”

It was hot and stuffy in the elevator, and Sam was sweating under his hoody but he didn’t want to take it off. Professor Novak unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up neatly to his elbow. Sam tried not to stare at his slender fingers and the exposed skin of his forearm. He felt like a victorian guy getting a flash of a lady’s ankle. 

“If skepticism interested you, you should take one of my courses on epistemology or phenomenology next semester. What are you majoring in?”

“I don’t really know yet. I was thinking of studying pre-law. But I’m not sure if it’s right for me. I figured I’d get my gen ed out of the way and maybe something would stand out.”

Sam shrugged, it was the second semester of his first year and he was already lost. 

“Well the philosophy department is always looking for new faces.”

“Are you trying to recruit me?”

Castiel smiled, a small closed lip thing but it lit up his eyes. “Perhaps.”

Sam found himself smiling too. “So what can you even do with a philosophy degree though?”

At that Castiel laughed. Sam felt the question might have been slightly insulting, but he figured his professor was used to it. 

“Honestly, not much at all. You can teach. Try to make a living writing. My first job out of college was on a factory assembly line.”

“Man, that sucks.”

“Not really. I learned a lot of things about myself studying philosophy. The knowledge has been invaluable to me.”

Sam nodded, and thought about it. He was really getting in to his philosophy class and wanting to take more already. It definitely had nothing to do with wanting to take more classes from professor Novak. He could always minor in it and find something else, something more practical for his major. 

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“Good.”

Although he was certainly not in a hurry to get out of the elevator, Sam still turned around and pressed the call button again. He wondered how long it would take for maintenance to get out on a Friday night. 

“We could always pry the doors open and see if we could get out?”

Mr. Novak scowled at the elevator doors. “I don’t believe that’s a good idea. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to get your cart out.”

“Yeah. True. I could climb out and go for help?”

“I’m sure they’ll come soon enough.”

Sam’s hands were still curled in the pouch of his hoody. He was on the opposite side of the elevator from his professor, but it was such a small space that he could smell Mr. Novak. Sam wasn’t really certain what that almost spicy but definitely heady scent was, cologne or aftershave or maybe just deodorant, but if he had to stay in the elevator with his professor for much longer while his mind seemed intent on running up a long list of new spank bank material, it was definitely only going to get more uncomfortable. 

Professor Novak reached up and ran his fingers through his already messy hair, scratching at the back of his neck. Sam might think he were nervous, but that was ridiculous. 

“Is this your first year Sam?”

“Yeah.”

“How are you getting along?”

Sam curled his toes in his sneakers. So many of his professors always seemed hurried and uninterested, aloof. Even when he went to see them during office hours with questions, they were always multi tasking. It was kind of nice to have a professor take interest in him, although they were kind of stuck in an elevator with nothing better to do than make small talk. Well, he could think of a few better options, but they weren’t living in a porno so those ideas would stay firmly in his head. 

“Pretty well. Aside from, you know, not really knowing what I’m doing, I’ve actually really been enjoying my classes.”

“That’s good. You should come by my office, we can talk more about majors and career paths. Even the non philosophy ones.”

“That’d be great.” 

Sam found himself looking around the elevator, reading the spines of Mr. Novak’s books, counting the dents in the sides of the elevator. Mr. Novak had an intense stare that made him squirm and the professor hadn’t taken his eyes off Sam the whole time. 

“So, uh, how long have you been a professor here?”

“Oh, going on nine years now.”

“Really?”

“Yes, is that surprising?”

“You just, look really young, I figured…”

“That’s flattering. But, I’m thirty six.” 

Sam knew his face must be embarrassing, what with his eyebrows going up and his mouth falling open, but wow, just wow. He thought Mr. Novak was in his twenties. That meant that Sam had been masturbating to a guy more than a decade and a half older than him. 

“Wow.”

Professor Novak crooked a single brow up and that was not helping Sam’s situation. Oh god, he was going to be mortified about this forever. Sam tugged his hoody down over his lap more. 

The static crackle of a voice coming through the speaker of the control panel broke their weird stare off when a maintenance guy announced that he’d arrived and would be fixing the problem. Sam answered him back and was simultaneously relieved and disappointed that this would be over soon. 

The elevator shuddered, the stupid cart sabotaging him again when it suddenly swung towards Sam and knocked him forward, falling against Mr. Novak. The cart had wedged itself catty corner and was pressing against the backs of his legs as the elevator started to move again. Sam braced his arms to either side of Mr. Novak’s head to push off and dislodge the cart but then he froze. 

Mr. Novak was blushing. 

Pink tinged his cheeks and his lips were parted as he looked up at Sam through his glasses. Hair tousled, smelling far too good for a middle aged professor, warm and firm against Sam’s body, Mr Novak stared at him. 

Sam felt like he might throw up. He was hot and his dick was suddenly too interested, and he knew that Mr. Novak could feel his erection. Oh god, what if he got kicked out his class, could he get kicked out of the university? A million embarrassing, sexy, inappropriate thoughts flitted through his mind as the elevator moved from the top floor down and down. 

Mr. Novak took a deep breath through his parted lips and Sam could feel it swell up his chest, pressing them closer together. It was instinctive reaction, happening faster than Sam could process. Professor Novak licked his lips and tilted his head to the side, craning forward slightly, and Sam dipped his head down to press their lips together. A hand settled lightly on his hip as his professor licked against the seam of his mouth, and Sam parted his lips, almost whimpering as his teacher kissed him. 

The elevator dinged as it hit the ground floor. Sam jumped back, jostling the cart and stumbling away awkwardly. 

“Oh god I’m so sorry -“

Mr. Novak coughed, hands flattening down the front of his sweater vest. “I apologize. That was, highly unprofessional. And unethical.”

“Dude, that was totally all my fault.”

His professor was now the one looking anywhere but Sam. 

“Nonetheless. I apologize if I’ve caused any discomfort, I can make an exception for how late it is in the semester if you wish to drop my class.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Sam froze half out of the elevator door, pulling his cart backward. Professor Novak just tilted his head and squinted. 

“I, uh…. “ Sam leaned forward into the elevator more and whispered, “I’ve thought about kissing you since the first day of class.”

He felt his cheeks heating and he hurried out of the elevator. The ground floor was deserted, it was past closing time by now and Sam hoped that the other student working here had started closing up. 

Professor Novak looked completely ruffled, for as stoic and calm as he usually was it was kind of weird. 

“I, well still, you’re my student and that sort of behavior is completely unacceptable.”

Sam grimaced. “Sorry.”

Mr. Novak started to pile his books and folders in his arms. “However, if you’re not taking any of my classes next semester….”

Sam smiled so hard it hurt his cheeks. As much as he liked taking Professor Novak’s class, he was sure philosophy would still be interesting from another teacher. 

Sam silently blessed that stupid old elevator and the squeaky cart as he rounded the front desk to check Mr. Novak out. His books. Check out his books.


End file.
